I'll See You at Last
by MoonytheMarauder1
Summary: Draco doesn't think he can face the past and earn his redemption. Theodore Nott disagrees, and somehow Potter is entangled in it all. DracoTheo, post-war!au. For Aya :)


**A/N: Hey y'all! This was written as a gift-fic for the Hogwarts October Fortnightly :) This is DracoTheo (Also, this is my first time with the pairing—and the first time in a long time with Theo—so… hopefully it isn't a disaster XD).**

**Beauty Therapy Task 10: Write about letting go of something**

**Word Count: 2978**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those rights go to JK Rowling. **

**Thanks to Grace and Gen for beta-ing!**

**(pairing) TheoDraco**

**(genre) hurt/comfort**

**(theme) post-war**

**For Aya :)**

**Enjoy!**

There were many ways Draco had once pictured his life turning out. There had never been any question that he would inherit his family name and title, and he'd always assumed he'd have a place in the Ministry. In a way, those things had happened.

He'd just never imagined he would be working _for_ anyone.

He was, of all the mortifying things, Harry Potter's personal assistant. If things were any less desperate, he wouldn't endure the blow to his pride. But it _was_ necessary, so Draco walked into the Ministry each morning and pretended that he didn't see right through Potter's misguided attempt at charity.

To his credit, Potter wasn't terrible to him. He did his best to make the job enjoyable—or at least tolerable—and didn't make Draco fetch him this and that, which Draco would have done had their roles been switched, he knew with shame.

He'd been a bit of a bully. He might still be. But Draco was trying not to be that person anymore after all the harm he'd caused during the war. Those nightmares still kept him awake at night, and atonement was the only way he could even ease a fraction of that guilt.

The fact that his fortune was being withheld until he proved himself to be a trustworthy citizen, surprisingly enough, had very little to do with it.

Today, when Draco walked into Potter's office, he was immediately suspicious of the other man's hopeful look. Harry's green eyes were looking at him imploringly, as though Draco wasn't required to fulfill any request asked of him. "You wouldn't mind getting us each a coffee, would you? I'm exhausted. The late shift, of all things."

Draco raised a blond brow. "You volunteer for those."

Harry grinned guiltily. "I do, sometimes. It helps clear my head."

Draco's hand was already on the doorknob. "Yes, sleep deprivation is a great way to _clear your head_, I'm sure."

Harry snorted and shooed him on. Shaking his head, Draco headed back out and Apparated to a little cafe in Hogsmeade he knew Potter enjoyed. The tentative… _acquaintanceship_ they'd developed had come as a surprise to both, but Draco was just glad that there wasn't any real resentment between them. That would have made the days miserable.

Draco walked quickly into the coffee shop, posture stiff and chin held high. He ignored the looks and whispers coming his way and focused on ordering the coffees. He counted out the cash Harry had provided and rolled his eyes upon finding that Harry had given him exact change for their usual orders. Potter hated carrying change, for whatever reason.

When it was his time to order, Draco glanced disinterestedly at the girl behind the counter. "Two coffees—one black, one caramel latte." Potter's order still physically pained him to say, even though this was a fairly common occurrence.

The girl, who'd grown used to his aloof behavior, just nodded, biting her lip ring, which was enchanted to glow different colors depending on her mood. It was indigo now. Either impatience or annoyance, he guessed.

"Sure thing, Mr. Malfoy. Don't worry, I remember the sizes."

Draco nodded, trying to look appreciative when all he felt was bored. "Right, thank you."

The girl snorted, but she sent the order in with a wave of her wand. Draco walked off to the side to wait for his order. He watched process with little interest; the novelty of coffee making itself had worn off when he was very young.

Finally, the drinks arrived. Draco grabbed them both and turned towards the door. He was just getting ready to shove it open with his shoulder when someone pushed it open for him.

Draco blinked in surprise, unused to shows of kindness; everyone seemed to know who he was and what he'd done. Most weren't opening hostile, but no one ever leant a hand—which he knew he deserved.

Nevertheless, he appreciated the gesture that morning.

"Thank you," he mumbled quickly, then slipped through the door.

"Oh, it's not a problem, Draco."

He knew that voice, and it was that familiarity that stopped him in his tracks. Slowly, he turned around. Dark hair, warm brown eyes, a slight smirk—

"Nott."

Theo raised a brow and let the door fall shut. "Aren't we on a first name basis, now?"

Draco stiffened. "I'm not sure we have much to say to each other," he drawled.

"Well, why not? We haven't seen each other since before the war… took off, for lack of a better word."

Draco didn't want to think about the different paths they'd chosen. The Notts had gone into hiding, deciding not to back Voldemort in the fight; the Malfoys had launched themselves into it, hungry for the power and fame the Dark Lord had promised.

Draco had learned quickly enough that war was just blood and screams and a mountain of regret.

The Malfoys fell from grace. Draco's father had been imprisoned, and his mother was under careful Ministry watch. He had gotten off the lightest of them all, with a secure job and an affordable flat. Harry was required to check in on him once a month and do an inspection. It was a small price to pay.

The Notts, however, had risen in society and became wealthier than they ever had been, earning Ministry compensation for housing victims of the war.

Draco had always fancied himself superior to the Notts, and now that that illusion had shattered, he wasn't sure where he stood with the man he'd once considered a friend.

"The war has been over for months. Why do you care what became of me now?"

Theo didn't blink. "The whole world knows what became of you. The tricky thing was finding you; Potter's rather good at his protective wards, isn't he?"

Protective wards. Draco's blood boiled at the audacity of Potter—putting _wards_ around his home to keep him safe without express permission. Draco could take care of himself, and as soon as he was back at the office, he'd give Potter a piece of his mind, boss or not—

The coffee was getting cold. Damn.

"I need to go," Draco told Theo curtly. He was burning with curiosity about the reason for this visit and the hunt Theo claimed to have been on, but a larger part of himself doubted he'd be able to handle the answer.

Things had changed after the war. _He_ had changed.

Theo visibly deflated at his words, which Draco thought was ridiculous. What had the man been hoping for—a tearful reunion? "I wanted to speak with you. Before we parted ways, things were rather good, I thought. I liked it, anyway."

They'd shared a single kiss in a broom cupboard after detention. And as much as Draco longed for that feeling of pure acceptance again, he knew that Theo was under the impression that the war hadn't completely destroyed him.

"People can change," he said shortly. "I'm not that person anymore."

Theo took a step forward, and it was stubborn pride that kept Draco from running for the hills. "People can change for the better."

Suddenly, an overwhelming urge to protect Theo welled up within him. He was damaged goods, and though he could see himself falling for this man, it was startling to realize that there were better men out there. Men who weren't so easily lured by the promise of power.

So he lifted his chin and said, "I'm not interested in seeking shelter in the past. You should move on, Nott."

Draco turned to leave, but Theo's voice halted his tracks.

"We only see two things in people," he murmured. "What we want to see, and what they want to show us." A hand fell on Draco's shoulder. "But I know I'm not delusional, and I know that you're an excellent liar." The hand fell away. "This isn't over."

And then Theo disappeared in true Slytherin fashion, leaving Draco, confused, anxious, and surprisingly eager to know how Theo would corner him next.

* * *

Potter's unfortunate habit of sticking his nose where it didn't belong had not, to Draco's dismay, vanished with maturity. If anything, it had grown stronger.

"Potter, my job is to assist you with paperwork and grab you lunch, _not _humor your attempts at matchmaking."

"I didn't say anything!"

"That smug grin says enough."

This just made said grin grow wider, which Draco fumed over. He paced angrily around Potter's office. "Get back to your paperwork, Potter."

Harry sat back in his chair, dark brows raised. "Nott asked me how he could find you, Draco. I didn't tell him in order to mess with you." Harry leaned forwards so suddenly, his glasses slipped down his nose. "I remember in school… you two liked each other."

"I don't accuse you of being in love with Weasley just because you were together a lot, Potter," Draco snapped, trying desperately to cool the heating of his cheeks.

Harry's green eyes sparkled. "Love?"

Draco threw his hands in the air. "My freedom is not worth this," he grumbled loudly. Draco began grabbing papers from Harry's desk and sorting them—the man didn't keep anything tidy—if only to do something other than stand there while Harry tried to talk to him about _feelings_.

"Hey, Malfoy." The change in tone was what persuaded Draco to turn to face the Gryffindor; he'd seldom heard Potter sound so serious. "We've never liked each other much, I know… but I don't hate you." Potter let out a small laugh. "Never thought I'd be quoting my cousin, but… I don't think you're a waste of space, or anything like that."

Oh, sweet Merlin. They were not having this conversation.

"Thank you so much, Potter, for telling me that my life isn't worthless." Pale fingers clenched into fists. "I've been waiting for your validation."

Potter's shoulders slumped. "That's not what I meant."

Shaking his head, Draco stared at the wall over Harry's shoulder. "You were right to say we weren't friends, Potter. This arrangement will eventually be over, and then you can move on with your life. I won't be here to keep you tied to the past—"

"Mother of Merlin—you're putting words in my mouth!"

Potter was standing up now, looking angrier than Draco had seen him in a long time. He was running his fingers through his hair agitatedly, glasses glinting as he shook his head. "You're not a terrible shadow of the past lurking in my workspace, Malfoy." Potter cast him an annoyed look. "You're not _that_ influential in my life.

"You were right, however, in saying that I want to put the past behind me. I want to put _our_ past behind me. I don't like you, Malfoy, but that doesn't mean I want to watch you beat yourself up for mistakes you made." Potter leaned forwards, his hands bracing himself on the desk. "You've changed; it's easy to see. You don't deserve to suffer forever."

"I don't need you interfering in my life," Draco countered quietly. He tried not to be rattled by what Potter was saying, but he was. Merlin, he was.

All everyone ever told him was that he wasn't suffering enough, and now Potter—the hero of the wizarding world—was telling Draco he was punishing himself too much.

Harry sighed heavily. "Fine, I won't interfere in the future. I'm sorry about that. I just… I knew you might listen to him."

Draco clasped his hands behind his back; he refused to show Potter how they were trembling. "He thinks…" The words were nearly impossible to get out. "He said I could change for the better." Draco paused. "He said that I already have."

Harry nodded. "He's telling the truth. He really does believe it."

Draco's voice was quiet when he next spoke. "Do you believe it?"

Harry shrugged, but he seemed calmer. "You're not throwing slurs at Muggleborns anymore, so yeah. I'd say that's a step in the right direction."

Draco inclined his head, but he didn't respond. Eventually, he cleared his throat. "You have a meeting in five minutes."

Harry swore and dove for his cloak, then ran out the door. Draco sank into a chair once he was gone, mulling over Potter's words. It was odd, he thought, how someone whom he hated so much could still care about him.

Then again, perhaps Potter had just tired of hate and anger. If he told the truth, Draco was, too.

* * *

He found Theo the next day beside some Muggle shop full of vintage books and other odd pieces. The dark haired man's face lit up when he saw Draco, which was utterly ridiculous—but it still set his heart pounding.

Draco paused for a moment, thinking hard. He could turn back now, or he could be brave and face the man he'd never quite lost feelings for. He could go over and explain that, while he didn't openly insult those with different blood purity, he'd never been able to shake the feeling that they were less than he was. He could explain that he hated what he'd done, but that he couldn't just forget his upbringing.

He could go over and explain that he still wanted a relationship, but he was terrified of poisoning it. He could confess his tendency to run away from things that truly scared him.

He could admit that Theo scared him. Or he could run away and pretend like he'd never mustered up so much courage in the first place.

But Draco Malfoy was a vain man, and he couldn't tarnish what little of his honor he had left. So when Theo made eye contact with him, Draco approached.

His heart didn't float as he made his way over. If anything, it sank. He didn't want to face this piece of his past, he didn't want to be reminded of his mistakes.

He'd thought confronting his mistakes would lead to his eventual doom, but perhaps suppressing all that guilt was what would do him in.

"I'm glad you came." Theo's eyes were bright.

"I said I would when you contacted me."

Theo leaned against the shop's wall, a small smile playing on his lips. "I didn't know if you'd keep your word."

Draco ran a hand through his blond hair, then dropped it, fearing he'd messed it up. "My father used to tell me that when you say you're going to do something, you do it. Because your word is bond. It's all you have." Draco glanced over at the other man. "Rich coming from him, I know. But I've tried to live by it."

Theo's lips twitched. "When it served your purpose, of course."

He didn't seem to resent that truth, so Draco let himself smile. "Of course."

Theo pushed himself off the wall and began walking down the street. He flicked his head to the side to beckon Draco to follow him, so Draco complied. After a few minutes of walking in silence, Theo spoke in a low voice that barely concealed his hurt.

"You promised you wouldn't leave me. You promised that you'd give us a try." Theo looked up at the cloudless sky. "I waited for you during the war, you know. For some form of contact."

"I couldn't… it was too dangerous." That, at least, was the truth.

"I know, Draco. But you still could have contacted me afterwards."

Draco closed his grey eyes, resisting the urge to run off again. The guilt was overwhelming, but that didn't mean that things couldn't get better. "I should have," he agreed.

Theo stopped by a park bench and sat down, patting the space next to him. Draco seated himself there. He paused a moment to take in Theo. He truly was a sight for sore eyes with his dark, fashionably cut robes and handsome features. The Notts had never been the most prejudiced of families, nor the wealthiest (at least compared to the elite), but there was a certain vainness to them that Theo seemed to have inherited; he never went anywhere half-dressed.

It was attracting stares from the Muggles, but, well, Draco could make Potter deal with that if need be.

"I should have tried to get to you sooner," Theo murmured. "You know, you were always what kept me going. We were barely more than friends before the war started… but I wanted to see you again. Things seemed less hopeless when I thought of you."

Draco swallowed with difficulty. He'd always been envious of how easily Theo could open up about his emotions; Draco had a bad habit of keeping them hidden, especially when he needed someone to help him.

Theo laced their fingers together, and Draco thought suddenly that he might cry. "You were my light in the darkness, you know."

"_Yes_," Draco gasped. "Merlin, _I know_. It's a completely stupid thing, but I know you mean it."

Theo punched him lightly on the shoulder, frowning. "I've never been a stupid person," he pointed out. "Trust me. It's time you let go of the past and start looking to the future." Boldly, Theo leaned forward and rested his forehead against Draco's; Draco's mouth went dry and his heart stuttered to a stop. "You deserve a future."

Trembling, Draco caved in and closed the distance between them. Theo responded eagerly, pouring an astounding amount of emotion into the kiss. Draco had thought such a thing would scare him—but it invigorated him, and for the first time in a very long time, he felt truly alive.

He'd been striving at a chance for redemption, but with that kiss, it felt attainable. It felt, finally, like the world wasn't working against him and like he had a _chance._

Draco's fingers curled up into Theo's hair, pulling the other man's head closer. He didn't want to let go of this, not again.

He held on tighter, and dared to hope.

**A/N:**

**WC: Assorted Appreciation: 10. "He's telling the truth. He really does believe it."**

**WC: Disney Challenge: C6. Write about a personal assistant**

**WC: Trope of the Month: 8. (word) vintage**

**WC: Space: 5. Write about vanity**

**WC: Book Club: Cliff: (action) punching someone, (word) bully, (emotion) superior**

**WC: Showtime: 11. (word) fetch**

**WC: Amber's Attic: 10. (drink) coffee**

**WC: Sophie's Shelf: 14. "People can change."**

**WC: Liza's Loves: 1. "I don't think you're a waste of space."**

**WC: Scamander's Case: 5-1. Write about someone misunderstood**

**WC: Bex's Basement: 4. "We only see two things in people, what we want to see and what they want to show us."**

**WC: Film Festival: 25. "When you say you're gonna do something, you do it. Because your word is your bond. It's all you have."**

**WC: Marvel Appreciation: 6. Write about a supportive employee**

**WC: Lyric Alley: 12. I been pushing for this for so long**

**Stickers: Permanent: Standard Book of Spells: 7. Write about someone being the light in a dark place. **

**Fortnightly: Firework: 18. Theodore Nott**

**Supermarket: 8. A Slytherin**

**Mythology: 11. Write about someone getting the attention of a higher class or power**

**What's Cooking: 12. (word) eventual**

**Game Night: Right foot: 4. Hogsmeade/Left hand: 12. Running away from something too much**

**87\. Float**

**818\. Friends to lovers**


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